


New Blood

by dysphoria (amoralisch)



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Celebrer, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoralisch/pseuds/dysphoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contract holder or friend? This line has never been too clear between Nic and Worick. When forces try to sever that bond, Nic takes matters into his own hands and they won't stay clean for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Songfiction  
> Fandom: Gangsta.  
> Music & Lyrics: Koda - New Blood  
> story has no beta D: - (as always) excuse the translation errors  
> Comments and Kudos are good for your karma ;P

 

 

 

> _**there’s a beast awakening** _  
>  _**tugging at my feet** _  
>  _**and it won’t be satisfied** _  
>  _**‘til it’s taken me** _

 

"Nico!" Her voice, high pitched and full of fear, stayed unheard, deaf ears immune to her worry and concern. Small feet ran down the dirty road, following the man who had turned around and left without a word moments ago.  
  
"Nico, wait!" Nina felt panic rising as the broad-shouldered Twilight went on, sword hand gripping his weapon hard enough to show white knuckles. This would not end well. She knew it. He couldn't leave like this. She reached out and grabbed his shirt from behind, pulled at it. It didn't matter. His next step forced her feet to stumble along with him.  
  
"Nico!" Tears in her eyes. "Don't go!" Her left hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Nicolas stopped in the middle of the road and glanced back at her over his shoulder. She gasped as she was confronted with the coldness in his eyes. They gleamed in the fading daylight. "Don't go alone," she begged him. He stared at her for another moment, unmoving, then faced  forward again.

"tAk' CAr' of hiM." His voice was cold. His next step dragged her another step forward before she let go of him. A sob got caught in her throat but she forced it back down, held her tears back and watched him go. She couldn't follow him, her place was here. This was the only place she could do something right now and she'd better do her best.

Nina turned around and walked back to the clinic. There was still a trail of blood leading to the front door, leading her back. She couldn't hear the screams anymore. When she entered the door, everything was silent. Sedated, she thought. They had to knock Worick out. She held her chin up high again and entered the front door.

"Nina! Hurry and come in." She closed the door behind her and went to the next room. Doctor Theo didn't turn around as she entered, trusting her to do what had to be done without watching her. "I have stopped the bleeding. We must set his breaks quickly. Careful with his hands if he's to use them again." She washed her hands methodically and got dressed. The man in front of her on the operating table was a mess. She looked at him and tried to forget what his face looked like with its boyish smile, what his silky hair looked like when he tied it up to keep it out of his face. Instead she concentrated on the blue and purple bruises covering his sweaty skin, on the split lower lip and the pale hair, now stained with blood. Worick needed her now and if he was to wake up again and be himself, she had to  keep her worries  and fear out of her head.

* * *

 

 

> **_there’s a cold wind blowing_ **   
>  **_rattling the trees_ **   
>  **_and I won’t be satisfied_ **   
>  **_'til they know it’s me_ **

****

No one had ever said that Ergastulum was a safe place. No one would have believed it. But there existed a balance here, that should not be disturbed. The families were the foundation of the city, the guild and police formed the pillars. Some key individuals added some weight to counteract shifts in power to keep the balance. The Benriya were among  those individuals and even though they kept ties to every power source, they kept them loose. They were independent and small but far from weak.

When they became a target, the balance was at stake, for those two men were a force in need of their own provided counterbalance but with one side taken down, the other broke loose.

It had been a lazy day. Nicolas had been up early as usual, only to find his partner still fast asleep, a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. The Twilight had rolled his eyes in resignation. It didn't matter much to him anyway. They had to take care of some deliveries today but it was also one of those days when Nicolas and Worick would go separate ways, the blonde busy with another job that took him into more beds than Nicolas would ever care to share. So the Twilight had taken his share of deliveries. He left two behind for Alex to take care of. He knew that she would most likely enjoy some responsibility and a trip to Constance would give her a chance to chat, something that he just didn't enjoy.

When he had come back home later that evening, Nicolas had not been surprised to find it still empty. He knew Worick would stay out late more often than not and since Alex wasn't supposed to answer the phone on days like this, there was really nothing left  to do for her here. Nicolas didn't mind. It was nice to have the place to himself for a while. Since  Alex had moved in with them, it happened less often. Shrugging off his jacket, Nicolas picked up one of his books and sat down on the window sill.

As the light changed to yellow shades of evening sun, Alex came back. He greeted her with a lazy wave of his hand and looked at her long enough to read the words 'making dinner' from her lips. Pleased with that, he leaned back again and turned a page. He had not read another three pages when he looked up again to face her. She was looking at the phone on the desk.

"It keeps ringing," she said. He shrugged, leaving it to her to either pick up or leave it be. She reached out and answered the phone. Nicolas kept his eyes on her lips, saw the usual 'Benriya, how may we help you?' and tilted his head, as a puzzled look crept over her face. "Yes. - Yes." She wrote something down. "Who is-" The one on the other side must have hung up on her. She put the phone back down and turned to him.

"Nicolas, I don't really understand but..." She hesitated for a moment. "A man called. He said he had a message for you. He gave me an address." She handed him a piece  of paper. "He said: Your contract has expired, that he had taken care of it." She looked at him questioning. He blinked, looked at her, then got to his feet and left the book on the window sill. "Nicolas?" She must have realized his sudden haste was not a good sign. He grabbed his sword, which had been leaning against the wall next to him, reached for his jacket and made for the door. The feeling of her footsteps on the floor boards behind him made him turn around again.

_Wait here_ , he signed _. Don't leave_. He looked her in the eye to make sure she got it. Then, with one foot already out of the door he turned around one last time _. Lock the door_. And he was gone.

 

 

> _**there’ll be** _   
>  _**new blood on the leaves** _   
>  _**new blood on the leaves** _   
>  _**new blood on the leaves** _

__

Worry was urging him on. No time for back alleys and quiet streets. Nicolas leaped up onto a balcony and from there onto the next roof. It took him another ten minutes of running and jumping until he reached the address on the paper. It was an old building, empty most likely, for the windows were smashed in and the front door stood ajar. He crouched down on the edge of the roof across the street and peered down. No one in sight. He didn't like it. His hand reached into the pocket of his jacket. Being prepared had saved his life more times than he cared to count. Nicolas smirked down at the Celebrer Uppers in his hand. He shook out three pills into his palm and stashed the bottle back into his pocket. He swallowed them dry after grinding them down between his teeth. Sometimes he wondered what kind of sound that caused. People who knew him always turned to look at him with concern when he did it, alerted by the sound. The feeling of crushed pills in his mouth was familiar but what would something in his mouth sound like?

His wandering mind snapped back as he saw movement below. A man stepped outside. He wore combat pants and an olive green vest. His hair was hidden under a hood. Pale, strong arms seemed too relaxed, hands hidden in pockets. _Young_ , Nicolas thought. Maybe twenty by the look of him. Suddenly, as if he had heard something, the man turned around and looked up, directly at Nicolas. Blue eyes stared at him, a mouth twisted into a grin greeted him.

"About time." The man looked at him, as if to judge his strength from afar. Then he reached inside his vest and pulled at a chain in a familiar motion. Tags. They gleamed in the sun. A/1  Nicolas smirked. The grip on his sword tightened. "Care to join me down here, brother?" Nicolas raised an eyebrow at that. "What?" The amused look on the man never left his face. "Aren't we all family? You know, somehow we all share the same mutated gene passed down by some distant ancestor." He shrugged. Nicolas frowned at him.

"Ah, well. I know you don't talk much, Nicolas Brown. That's alright. I can do the talking. In fact, you just have to listen. I am sure you got my message, otherwise you wouldn't be here." Blue eyes never left him but Nicolas didn't move, not yet. "Two things you need to know." And the young man lifted a hand with two extended fingers. "First: things will change in this city. The old arrangement and the three principles clearly don't work out anymore. Twilights will no longer suffer under inferior Normals like slaves. And second: all contracts are to be suspended immediately. I know you are a bit of a special case, that’s why we made it easy for you.” He put his hand back in his pocket. “They will no longer treat us like animals, brother. We are no longer livestock lured in by drugs.” He came into the street, right under Nicolas.

_What a strange guy_ , Nicolas thought, no longer willing to let the man talk nonsense. He jumped down and landed right next to the other Twilight. Maybe he would have to push him around a bit to make him shut up and leave him alone. To his surprise, a hand reached out and fell onto his shoulder in a friendly gesture as the younger Twilight stepped beside him.

“When you are done here, meet us at the old warehouse in the Abandoned District.” That was all. The Twilight went past Nicolas and jumped, just like Nicolas had, effortlessly onto the next rooftop.

Frowning, Nicolas looked back over his shoulder. _/When you are done here…/_ He sniffed. There was a metallic smell in the air. Blood. His feet took him inside the building in three long strides. Following his instincts, Nicolas went through open doors and empty rooms, until he entered what once might have been a living room – and froze. There on the dirty floor lay his partner and contract holder, bruised and beaten, looking up at him. Agony way clearly written on Worick’s pale face and Nicolas knew that his friend had been screaming, had been calling his name.

Nicolas growled. He hurried over to Worick’s side and crouched down. The younger man was saying something but his face was so twisted in pain, his lips split and swollen, so that Nicolas could not make out what he was telling him. The Twilight’s gaze wandered over Woricks body, came to rest on his partner’s hands. His fingers were broken, twisted in strange angles, blue and purple and grotesquely swollen. And by the look of it, those were not the only broken bones his friend had suffered. Worick was still mumbling, was still in pain and Nicolas felt helpless watching him like this.

“ShUt UP,” he hissed angrily. His hands hovered over Worick, unsure how to move him. “I DOn’ undAstANd.” His voice was thick with raw emotion. He had to get Worick to Theo. Worick gritted his teeth but stopped talking. Nicolas swallowed. This would not be easy. He locked his gaze with Worick. _I got you_ , he signed. All Worick could manage was a tense nod and then there was no turning back. Nicolas tried to be careful as he picked the younger man up and even though he could not hear it, he saw Worick cry out in pain. As if they had returned to their childhood again, he watched Worick suffer and said nothing. / _Your contract has expired. We made it easy for you…/_ He would kill that guy.

 

 

> **_I’m a darkness growing_ **   
>  **_I’m a violent sea_ **   
>  **_when I come and cut you down_ **   
>  **_you’ll know that it’s me_ **

****

* * *

 

The last hour had been a blur. Already high on Celebrer, Nicolas had carried Worick to Theo’s clinic. The physician had gotten some information out of Worick. They had ambushed him on his way back home. There had been five of them, all Twilights. They did not belong to the guild or any family. At that point, Nicolas had been beyond caring for details. His left hand had gripped his sword tighter; his right hand had toyed with the Celebrer in his pocket. As they had to take care of Woricks injuries, Nicolas had left the clinic. _/Meet us at the old warehouse in the Abandoned District…/_

Overdosing had felt like a welcome rush. Some Twilights could not take it, they were too sensitive to the drug. Nicolas knew that Celebrer would kill him one day. He also knew that he would die even sooner if he did not overdose. They called him Faker but he did not care. His insensitivity to Uppers was as much dubious luck as his other gene mutation. It was what made him who he was and he did not care for names. Another two pills down. He knew he could push it.

His impact on dusty gravel was hard, his shoes skidded but he kept his balance effortlessly. There was more than one warehouse in District 01 but he did not need to search. They were waiting for him. Nicolas eyed the six men in front of him. The one in the middle he already knew. The A/1 Twilight smiled at him. To his left crouched a boy, maybe sixteen years old at most. He had red hair, pale skin, almost white and two daggers in his hands. Behind him stood a man clad all in black, older, Nicolas guessed him to be thirty. His weapons of choice were a pair of tonfa. On the right side stood two young men, twins in their early twenties, looking at Nicolas curiously. They had bleached white hair and pale blue eyes. Both of them carried guns. The last of the six was a brutish giant of a man, dark skinned and armed with a pair of brass knuckles. All eyes were on Nicolas.

 

 

> **_in the eye of a reckoning_ **   
>  **_everyone is a sheep_ **   
>  **_but I’ve become the lion’s mouth_ **   
>  **_so settle in my teeth_ **

 

His vision was clear but it shook on the edges, like tremors or vibrations. It was the Celebrer, he knew - or maybe it was rage. Six against one, he had survived worse odds.

"Welcome, brother. I knew you would -" Whatever the young man had wanted to tell him, he did not get the chance to finish. Nicolas had sprung forward, sword in hand and the surprised group dispersed in  front of him. The one in the middle, their leader, dodged to the side but although Nicolas had lunged in his direction, he had not been aiming at him. One of the twins made a choking sound as ten inches of blood-sleeked Japanese steel protruded from the back of his neck. _Too slow_ ,  Nicolas thought as his left hand reached out and grabbed the gun of the killed Twilight. The bullet hit home and stroke through the second twin's head even before his brother's body hit the floor with a dull thud. Nicolas gazed down at his left leg where a bullet had grazed his skin, the answer to his first attack. He could not feel it, only the pressure of the bullet against skin had registered in his brain. Not good enough.

Surprise was always a powerful ally in battle, especially if you were alone. With two enemies down, Nicolas' odds had improved dramatically. He discarded the gun. He had never liked guns. They felt like an impersonal choice  of weapon, especially for a Twilight. Nothing could thrill him more than facing an opponent with his own sword in battle. A jet black tonfa swooshed past his head, its owner had circled around him and lunged at Nicolas from behind. He dodged, jumped up in a back flip and struck with a sneering grin tearing at his lips. Forged steel sliced downward between neck and shoulder. Three down.

A brass-knuckled fist punched through the air like a projectile. Nicolas dodged but the impact that followed forced him to the side and had him crashing onto the ground like a ragdoll. He had felt his ribs cracking. Dizzy from the impact, Nicolas shook his head and blinked. A swift roll to the side prevented a boot from smashing his head into bloody pulp. Nicolas coughed involuntarily and was not surprised to see blood. Breathing felt odd. A punctured lung was the least he expected from the last hit. No time to get back up in time. If evading one's opponent was out of question, disarming him was the only choice left. His blade made a silver arc through the air, tinged crimson at the end. A severed hand, sliced off cleanly at the wrist, was flung to the side and the giant tumbled past him. Using his chance, Nicolas came back onto his feet, sword swinging. The blade got caught in the giant's side from behind. With a grunt, Nicolas forced it in between the ribs half way through and out again. Four.

A dagger clashed with his sword, its twin blade aimed at his eye. Nicolas kicked out, forcing the boy to jump back or risk a broken leg. Daggers were fast, precise but they lacked range. Nicolas did not mind close combat, invading personal space and breaking through defenses came as natural to him as breathing. The boy was fast, blades slicing through air too fast for normal eyes to see. Surprise flashed across Nicolas' face as a vicious attack nearly sliced his face open from ear to ear. He bent backwards, spine arching, his free hand pushing against the ground, his feet kicking out. His right foot connected solidly with the youth's chin before adding enough momentum with his second leg for Nicolas to flip over and land on his feet again. Blood ran down his cheek but it was nothing compared to the amount of red on the boy's face. He must have bitten through his tongue. Nicolas grinned, showing canines. He crouched down as soon as his feet hit the ground again, pushed forward. The tip of his sword pierced the youth's abdomen, daggers grinding uselessly against the blade in a futile attempt to block the attack, causing sparks between them. Nicolas felt the resistance and pushed. Some people thought Asian blades, especially Katana could slice a man in half with a flick of a wrist. Nicolas had seen it in movies before but reality was a different matter. It took strength to cut a man open, even with the best of weapons. Celebrer and Twilight genes gave a man the needed edge to get it done but it was still closer to a butcher's job than some divinity of destruction. Nicolas twisted his grip, jerking the blade to the side and out, gutting the boy, more blood spraying from the wound and from his mouth. He saw a flash of tags in the air in front of disbelieving  widened eyes of a dying boy as his sword ripped free. B/2

 

 

> **_there’ll be_ **   
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **   
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **   
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **

One to go. Being deprived of one sense, one really was at a disadvantage in a fight, even more so with more than one opponent. As soon as one lost track of an enemy, the hunter could easily become prey. Nicolas' eyes darted around but there was no trace of the last Twilight. Snarling he turned around. Nothing. He doubted that the leader had turned traitor and left his men, his _brothers,_   behind. When the attack came, it was not more than a whisper in the back of his mind, a slight tingle of senses, that caused Nicolas to spin around and block. No steel met his blade, no gun was pointed at his face, yet the bare hands and boot-clad feet did not lack force.

The man was fast. Nicolas caught himself setting one foot behind another as he was forced backwards to evade blows and kicks. When he countered, his blade cut through thin air. The A/1 Twilight had a grin on his face, despite the swift demise of his team. Nicolas coughed up more blood, as a hand drove into his injured side, pressing  the broken rips further inward. Still he felt no pain but the shaking on the edges of his vision increased with every minute. _Running out of time_. His own voice was disturbingly calm in his own mind. His opponent's lips moved and he felt himself being distracted for a moment.

"...no match for you. But-" Nicolas blocked a kick with his blade. "...lost your..." Punch, evade, kick, step back, block. "...not like them." His eyes kept focusing on those lips. Suddenly, he lost his footing and fell backwards. A kick was aimed at his face, missed him as he rolled away. Nicolas gripped his sword tighter. Something caught his eye. Next to him lay the bottle of pills. He must have lost it during the fight. A hand snatched it up before he could grab it. The Twilight stood above him, shook the Uppers and looked down at him.

"I have heard rumors about you." As Nicolas tried to slash at the man, a boot stepped onto his wrist, pressed down hard. Nicolas growled. "Is that how he keeps you close? Is this-" He shook the bottle again. "-your leash? I can get your supply. There is no need  to be your master's dog any longer." Him mentioning Worick again made Nicolas bare his teeth. His eyes were drawn to the pills again. _Just a little more_ , a voice seemed to whisper. _You can take him down. He is no match for you_. The man glared down at him, his expression suddenly very cold.

"Fetch," he commanded and threw the bottle next to Nicolas on the ground. The older Twilight reached for it with his free hand, barely able to touch it with the tips of his fingers. The boot in his wrist pressed down harder, almost crushing it. He could feel the bones grinding but he did not flinch.

"You are gone too far already to come back," the younger commented when he encountered no response to the pain. He took his foot away and stepped back, hands in his pockets. "Go on, take them." He gave a jerk with his chin, looking at the pills. Nicolas spared him only one glance. All he could read on that cold face was arrogance and disgust. Nicolas popped the lid, tipped the bottle back and chewed on a mouth full of Uppers. The eyes that watched him gleamed with curiosity. The man waited for him to swallow, to get back up onto his feet and cocked his head to one side. Most likely, he had never dared to take more Celebrer than his daily dose before, had never seen anyone  taken that many pills at once. He looked at Nicolas as if waiting for him to drop dead on the spot. As that did not happen, he blinked, took another step back and forced the grin back onto his face.

 

 

> _**fate holds you** _   
>  _**like an ugly noose** _   
>  _**the way you choose** _   
>  _**was it worth dying for?** _

 

Nicolas could feel the drug rushing through his system. There was a slight tremor in his limbs, muscles contracting on their own all over his body. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth, his lips and tongue felt numb. He shifted his jaw, sneered at the other man with a feral grin. His vision narrowed and he felt a rush of heat. Nicolas knew he would need a serious dose of Downers after this - soon. His attention snapped back but all he could make out from the Twilight's last speech was one word. Faker. Nicolas glared at the man, lifted his sword to the side in a silent invitation to continue. The blade weighed nothing at all in his hand. The muscles in his legs bunched up as he jumped up suddenly, effortlessly, higher than before, faster. He could see shock on his opponent's face as he found their earlier roles reversed. Trying to dodge a sword though was far less forgiving  than fists and feet. Four steps back and the Twilight bled from multiple cuts he had received by narrowly evading strike after strike.

Their fatal dance found a sudden end, as Nicolas swung at his opponent, then reached out and caught a leg in mid air. The younger man crashed down and his mouth opened wide in a wordless scream as the blade plunged into his guts. Nicolas could feel the tip scraping against  the ground beneath, as he twisted the hilt, making sure the wound would not close again before he pulled back. Crimson blossomed on the vest, like a red flower on green leaves. The picture of Worick nearly beaten to death flashed across Nicolas' inner eye. He took a step back.

"GhETh uUP," he snarled, his speech less intelligible than usual. The younger Twilight pressed a hand to his stomach and stumbled back onto his feet. It seemed as if he wanted to back away, to flee but within a heartbeat, the blade pierced his skin a second time, slid into his chest with a sound like wet, whispering silk until the hand guard pressed firmly against him and Nicolas stood so close in front of A/1, he could feel his breath on his face. The man chocked, blood dripping from his mouth, dripping down warm between them. The growl that escaped Nicolas was deep and feral. He gripped the sword tighter and then jerked it upward in a sudden motion that sliced through the Twilight's torso and out. Blood burst from the cut, splattered the ground and left an arc on the street as Nicolas flicked the blade to the side. The man sacked against him, then slid to the ground. Six.

With a shaking hand, Nicolas reached into his pocket and closed it around the second bottle. Taking the Downers here would most likely let him pass out before he could make it back but the risk of not making it at all outweighed his concerns. Nicolas dropped half of the pills before he could put them in his mouth. Fatigue swept over him in a sudden onslaught, made him groan and hunch over. His tags escaped his shirt, sliding forward on their chain. He looked at them, blurry eyed and let his knees give way below him. The metal gleamed in the last fading light of the day and Nicolas could feel a grin pulling at his lips.

 

 

> **_there’ll be_ **  
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **  
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **  
>  **_new blood on the leaves_ **


End file.
